Amuse-bouche - 5

This is a series of "Amuse Bouche" -- humorous mouthfuls on the perplexities of French language and behavior, written by Julia Frey, a former French professor, now residing in France. email: julia.frey@aya.yale.edu

Fleas and Friperies

The world is full of objetsencombrants (nickname: “les monstres”)

Lydie and I love to chiner -- to go bargain hunting for brocante (“collectibles”, i.e. bric-a-brac). La chine doesn’t come from la Chine (China, same pronunciation) but from échine (spine), because rag and junk men used to carry their wares on their backs. We too wear backpacks as we haunt les marchés aux puces (quite literally “flea markets”), braderies (street sales, also known as réderies in northern France) as well as dépôtsvente and trocs (troc means barter, but both are actually consignment shops). For fringues (clothing), we search the friperies (secondhand clothing stores) known in classier terms as “les décrochez-moi-ça”, literally “unhook that for me”. Vintage (pronounced van-TAZH)—whether it was actually made 30 years ago or just looks that way—is trèstendance (very trendy).

When we were students, we used to faire les poubelles (go through garbage cans), also known as faire de la récup (fromrécupération, reusing or recycling still useable objects) — a perfectly respectable activity among les écolos (the ecologically correct). This was the routine: on days when les éboueurs (trash haulers) were scheduled to pick up objetsencombrants (nickname: “les monstres”) like dead refrigerators, obsolete dot-matrix printers and armoires with broken mirrors, people would put out their junk. But before the garbage trucks passed, other people, like Lydie and me, would faire la chasse aux trésors (go treasure hunting). I acquired ratty rattan trunks, old ceramic pickle jars and once, a 1910 Thonetbentwood chair that was only slightly branlante (rickety). Just like the one in the Centre Pompidou.

Collecting is a mixed blessing. That 1930s inlaid wooden headboard abandoned in my courtyard looked great after it was hosed off, given a coat of furniture wax and attached to my double bed. But the next morning I woke up with huge red bites! Apparently les punaises — bedbugs (also the word for “thumbtacks”, equally unpleasant in one’s bed) — can live in wood for years. Lydie, who can fix anything, helped me paint the wood with Xylophène (a French insecticide). Worked great.

Lydie guards the table while I go to the petit coin (euphemism). I handle sales while she tours the rest of the stands. It’s tempting to pick up une bricole (an insignificant object) that will be extraordinary after a little bricolage (fixing up), but when she comes back, she hasn’t bought anything. “How’s the competition?” I ask.